Retro Boys and Girls
by everythingneedsrevision
Summary: Nancy's not the only one with an old-fashioned sense of style and love for mysteries. Or... Snippets of missing scenes to tell the story that wasn't in the movie, the one where the Hardy Boys were actually there when Nancy Drew went to LA and their cases overlapped a little. Some minor hints of Frank/Nancy, mostly follows movie plot.
1. Odd Ones Out

**Title:** Odd Ones Out

 **Rating:** PG/G

 **Disclaimer:** If I wrote it, it wouldn't be published because it would be locked in endless revision.

 **Summary:** When Nancy has her awkward first day at school in Los Angeles, she gains the attention of more than twelve year-old boys and snotty fashionistas. A couple of undercover brothers just happened to notice her as well.

 **Author's Note:** This a series of snippets, using the idea of Frank and Joe actually having been in LA for the events of the most recent Nancy Drew live action film. This is just the first short bit to explain what Frank and Joe are up to.

I considered just using the script and putting the boys right in the thick of things, but that meant writing others out, and that wasn't really what I wanted to do, even if I have always been disappointed with small parts of Bess and George in the movie. Also... I did my own casting of Frank and Joe, and I think I like who I chose, but I don't have a good place to include that, so if anyone's curious, let me know and I'll tell you.

* * *

 **Odd Ones Out**

"There's something wrong with that one," Joe observed under his breath, and Frank elbowed him. He had noticed a few quirks to the new student, but then she wasn't doing her best to blend in with any of the stereotypical cliques. She had personality and her own sense of style.

"You're just mad because you're undercover and can't show off like usual," Frank said, amused. His brother glared at him, and Frank shrugged. He didn't know how he'd ended up with theater as an elective—someone was playing a trick on him, probably Joe—but at least he wouldn't be the only one who'd memorized parts of old plays and could recite them even if he had no talent for acting.

"Wait—did she just say her name was Drew?"

"Yes," Frank answered. "Why?"

"You remember," Joe said, hitting him on the arm to emphasize his point. "The house we were going to rent, the one we wanted but was already booked—the one with the mystery, with Dehlia Draycott—"

"You think she's staying there?"

"Yes, I do. Frank, she stole our mystery."

Frank shook his head, fighting a smile. Leave it to Joe to focus on that. "We have our own case. Staying in the Draycott home would have been nice, but we have to focus our energy on the trade of this designer drug passing through this school. It's too dangerous to be allowed to continue."

"Yeah, I know."

Frank let them settle back into silence. They weren't actually supposed to get along as well as they had been just now, at least not in public. Frank had chosen to overemphasize his talents for computers and technology into being a "nerd" while Joe had turned his athleticism up a notch to make himself a "jock," hoping that someone targeting either the uptight overperformers or the popular set would make a line for one of them.

Still, when Nancy Drew tried to smile over her mistake and pretend she was not the odd one out in the class, Frank found himself breaking his cover to smile back at her reassuringly. He already knew how difficult kids in this school could be, and if that smile helped at all, it was worth it.

He hoped, anyway.


	2. Wise to Your Act

**Title:** Wise to Your Act

 **Rating:** PG/K+

 **Disclaimer:** If I wrote it, it wouldn't be published because it would be locked in endless revision.

 **Pairing:** Small hint of Frank/Nancy, so if that bothers you, skip the last line.

 **Summary:** Nancy lets someone know she's on to his act. He surprises her by being onto hers.

 **Author's Note:** The line about "you have a type?" wouldn't stop echoing in my head after watching the movie again, so this happened, but it's kind of a nice bonding moment, too.

* * *

 **Wise to Your Act**

"I think you should know that the glasses cliché is a little obvious in the current time frame. I know it seems like a logical accessory to complete the personna you're stressing, but when you allow too many people to see you don't actually need them, it makes the whole act seem false," Nancy said, having observed the senior in question without his thick glasses too often not to remark upon it. "You would fit in with them even without the glasses."

"Says the girl that doesn't fit in anywhere," the boy countered, leaning against the wall. He had an air of confidence that Nancy didn't think she'd seen in him before, though she didn't have that many classes with him as he was a senior and she wasn't.

"Also, you and your brother get along better than you pretend," she said, feeling that same boldness come over her as she always did when she was reaching the end of a case and had all the threads she needed to tie it together. "You fight whenever someone's paying attention to you, but if you're alone or think you are, you two are thick like thieves."

He shrugged. "Brothers argue. Then they get along again. It's how it works."

"Yes, but you're different. Not only are you..." Nancy's eyes widened as she had the final piece. "You're also transfers. New students. You came here only a few weeks before I did, and you're—undercover. You're investigating something here at the school. There were rumors about cheating on standardized tests—"

"I'm starting to think someone has an overactive imagination in addition to a funky sense of fashion," he told her. "You know, you would make an excellent GM. You have any interest in Dungeons and Dragons or—"

"It's the drug ring, isn't it? Inga and Trish aren't involved, so I haven't seen much of a way in connection, but I did hear rumors, and I was putting together some theories."

"You have theories?"

She shrugged. "It's kind of a thing. Though I said I was giving up sleuthing when I came to LA, so I really shouldn't—"

"Tell me your theories," he said, taking off his glasses and putting them in his pocket. She saw the acknowledgment of her observation, and she thought he was doing more than humoring her, though she could be wrong—she'd been humiliated in front of a gym full of people—including him.

"I admit, I haven't really had time to do much with them because I've been—"

"Solving the Dehlia Draycott murder," he finished, and she stared at him for a moment before he shrugged. "Everyone knows where you're staying. It makes sense you'd look into it—if sleuthing is your thing."

She blushed. "It's your thing, too, though."

He grinned back at her, and she felt a slight bit of guilt. She'd told Ned not to worry because the guy from Smallville wasn't her type, but she was afraid that guys with intelligent soulful eyes and a thing for mysteries and undercover work just might be.


	3. A Reason to Party

**Title:** A Reason to Party

 **Summary:** Frank and Joe visit Nancy to ask a favor. Or... the party was always supposed to get out of hand.

 **Author's Note:** I couldn't help thinking of this as soon as I created the case Frank and Joe were working on, that they would like to be at that party. This got long on me, though.

* * *

Nancy heard the door and sighed. She didn't want to deal with Corky right now, and while Ned was actually staying in the same house with them, she hadn't gotten a chance to do much talking with him—she certainly hadn't been able to explain about Corky yet. Ned seemed to have the wrong idea about things, and she needed to make that clear. After her discovery of the secret passage in the house that lead to the apartment where Leshing lived, she had wanted to do more sleuthing, but her father was home, so she had to hold off on pursuing the lead for now.

She walked up to the door and frowned when she opened it. She wasn't sure what she expected, but finding the "brothers" standing on her doorstep was definitely not it. "Um... hello."

"Hi," the older one began, not wearing his glasses, though most of his "nerd" look was in place, the sweater over his dress shirt and the dress pants. His brother was wearing designer jeans and a letter jacket, hands in his pocket. "I wanted to tell you that your theory about the—"

"Come in," she said, leaning forward to take hold of the first one's arm and pull him in before he could say anything about her theories or sleuthing in front of her father.

"Nancy?" Her father called, Ned following him into the foyer. He frowned. "Um... hello."

"Dad, these are friends of mine from school," Nancy said. Then she fumbled, since she couldn't remember either boy's name—she hadn't thought they were using their real ones, so she didn't use them, either.

"I'm Frank," the older one said. "This is my brother, Joe."

"Frank's the president of the dork society, and he wanted Nancy to join," Joe said, getting a look from his brother. Ned didn't seem happy, but she would explain—she had so much to explain—later about their covers.

"I'm not the president, but they did ask me to see if she would join a few of the clubs I'm in. Joe's... not as academically minded, but he's actually supposed to see if Nancy's interested in one of the sports clubs."

"All very, very boring discussions," Nancy said, giving her father a bright, if false smile. "Let's discuss it upstairs, guys."

Ned was still frowning, but her father waved them off. Nancy led them up to the attic, knowing it would give them enough space to talk and enough distance from her father to say anything, since she was sure Frank and Joe hadn't come about any kind of club.

* * *

"So," Nancy said after they were all inside the attic, "what was that about a theory?"

The brothers exchanged a look, and the older one shrugged. The younger one rolled his eyes. She waited, not sure what they were saying with their silent communication. She saw Ned still eying them suspiciously and grimaced.

"Ned, Frank and Joe are working undercover at my school."

He blinked. "What?"

Frank nodded, though his eyes were on the photographs of Dehlia Draycott that Nancy had shown Corky the other day. He started flipping through them even as his brother shook his head. The younger one turned to her.

"You know, just because Frank's okay with you figuring it out doesn't mean you can blab it around to everyone you know."

"I haven't," Nancy said, defensive. "I only told Ned—and I trust Ned with my life."

"Easy, Joe," Frank said, motioning him over to show him a picture, which had him distracted, and Nancy wondered if he'd already seen what had taken her too long to understand—that Dehlia had been pregnant when she disappeared. "With Nancy likely to return to River Heights and us going to our own home, it's unlikely our paths will cross again, same with anyone she knows. Besides, if we were that worried about being discovered, we wouldn't let them base our cover identities on our real names."

"Point," Joe said, touching the photo. "Man, she was pretty. You figure anything out about her yet?"

"Yes," Nancy said, excitement building again. "I found a note saying Dehlia intended to change her will, and so I've been looking for the new will ever since. I think it's the key to why she was killed, and I also think—"

"She disappeared because she was pregnant," Frank said, and Nancy beamed at him, thrilled by the idea of sharing the investigation with people who were just as interested in it as she was. "That makes sense. Did you locate her baby?"

"I think so. I'm certain Jane is her daughter," Nancy said. Joe looked at her, less skeptical than he had been before. Maybe sharing her case with them made him trust her a little more.

"That's impressive," Frank told her. "I think you've made more progress with your investigation in the short time you've been here than we've made in ours for weeks."

Joe grimaced. "Gee, why not just tell her we're pathetic failures or something? What's wrong with you, anyway?"

Frank rolled his eyes. He moved away from the photographs and focused on Nancy. "That was part of why we were here. We were hoping you might help us."

"Me?"

"Nancy," Ned interrupted. "What about the—"

"The no-sleuthing promise?" Frank asked. He shook his head. "She doesn't actually have to do any. We were just hoping that she might allow us to... manipulate the situation a little. And invite ourselves to her birthday party."

"What?" Ned and Nancy asked at the same time.

Joe smiled, and Nancy had to admit, it was a real charming smile. "Drugs have a tendency to pass around at parties, but if we were to try and throw one, it would be very suspicious. Not only do we not have a reason or a place to have one, but Frank's doing his best to be a social leper, and no one's going to come over to his place. Mine, maybe, and I'm certainly not hurting for friends here, but while I saw plenty of things passing around the parties I've been through, I'm still short a source."

Frank folded his arms over his chest. "Parties aren't the only way drugs pass around, and I'm certain at least one of my computer club friends is hooked on this stuff. I just can't get him to talk to me about anything but World of Warcraft."

"Still," Joe said. "We figure if we can get a party started, we can give our drug dealers and users an opportunity. Especially since no one would see anything weird about you inviting everyone."

"Why not?" Ned asked. "She doesn't know them."

"Yes, but Nancy is... friendlier than most of the population of Los Angeles," Frank said, and Nancy smiled at the compliment, even if she suspected he'd chosen his words very carefully there. "It might not seem big back in River Heights or Bayport, but it certainly makes her stand out here."

Bayport. She knew that name. She looked between the brothers. "You're Fenton Hardy's sons, aren't you?"

Ned seemed to be trying to figure out if he should know the name, but the brothers just smiled.

"Guilty as charged," Joe said. "So... Nancy Drew, can we use your birthday party as a cover and just maybe catch some drug dealers?"

"Are you kidding?" Nancy asked, clapping her hands together and trying to ignore the fact that Ned seemed to think she should be saying that because she wanted to turn them down. "Absolutely."


	4. A Little Help Between Friends

**Title:** A Little Help Between Friends

 **Summary:** Nancy's streamers didn't look that perfect on her own.

 **Author's Note:** I wanted to have a Frank and Nancy conversation before the party in the movie, because Frank and Joe don't interact with her during the party. that gets to be all case fic when I get to it. This little interlude was nice to write, though, since most my ideas want to be angst.

* * *

"Frank?"

Nancy'd caught him studying the picture of Dehlia Draycott, and Frank almost flinched when he heard her voice behind him. He knew he had other things to do at the moment—she'd promised him he and Joe could disappear out the secret passage as soon as the party started and arrive like normal guests so no one was suspicious, but only as long as he and his brother helped set up. Joe was still sulking about it as he left for the store and more ice.

"Sorry. She's fascinating," Frank admitted. "I've seen her films, and there was something about her—she was talented but also... there was something underneath it. She was genuine, in spite of being an actress. Or so it always seemed. Then there's the way she disappeared and her murder..."

"Yeah," Nancy agreed. She looked up at the picture. "I almost feel like I know her, watching her movies, but then her life is different."

"Tragic."

"Yeah." Nancy fidgeted and rocked on her heels. "Hey, would you mind helping me with a few streamers? I'm not tall enough to hang them, and I was going to ask Ned, but then I'd upset Corky and—"

"And I'm Switzerland? That's some triangle you've got going on, Drew."

She tried to smile. "Maybe. It's not... I like Corky. He's funny and nice, and he's helped me on the case. Ned and I..."

Frank didn't think he needed that explained. He wasn't blind. He was also supposed to be an investigator and notice things. Sometimes he noticed more than he should. He cleared his throat awkwardly as they walked toward the other room. "I wanted to thank you for this."

She frowned. "For what? I haven't done anything."

"Allowing us to stage the party here. Joe's been getting antsy since we haven't 'solved the case' yet. He's been itching to do something stupid, which if you knew Joe wasn't that unlike him, but this stopped that, so I'm... I'm grateful. Thank you."

She shrugged. "Having a party was something I was doing anyway, and I like having people here who appreciate mysteries as much as I do."

"It's taking a toll on you, isn't it? Hiding your sleuthing from your father."

She winced. "You are, quite possibly, too good at that, Frank Hardy."

"Occupational hazard," he said, smiling at her. He put a hand on her arm, trying not to let the pattern of her dress distract him. "We actually started doing this sort of thing to prove to Dad we could help him with his cases—and eventually he agreed, though he really didn't like the sort of trouble Joe and I got ourselves into when we were younger."

"What changed?"

"A few too many times saving him when he stumbled into trouble of his own," Frank said, smiling at the memories, though not all of them were amusing. Sometimes his father had come far too close to dying before they found him. "I think parents have to see that we're not fragile, that we can handle more than they realize—well, that we've grown up, actually. Your dad's probably the same, though since you're an only child and your mom is gone..."

Nancy didn't ask how he knew that, and he was glad about that. "I think you may be on to something there."

"Joe would say something like, 'of course I am. I'm an expert on this stuff as the son of a famous detective,'" Frank began. She looked at him. He shrugged. "I know I'm not an expert. And Joe got all the Hardy charm."

"Not all of it," she told him. "I haven't forgotten how you smiled at me that first day—you were the only one who made me feel even the slightest bit welcome—well, besides Corky."

"I'm glad it helped," Frank told her. "So... where do you want these streamers?"


	5. Saving the Day through Punch

**Author's Note:** So I was supposed to do actual case fic type stuff. Then Joe wanted to do this, and so I let him.

And then I let the second scene happen, too. Oops.

* * *

"Joe, I need to talk to you."

Joe's groan wasn't just for the benefit of the guys he was standing next to—he couldn't believe Frank's timing. For the first time, he thought they were about to let him in on their dirty little habit and even offer him some. This was what they'd been working toward all these weeks, and it would all be ruined because Frank had lousy timing.

"Sorry guys, loser older brother alert," he said, excusing himself from his group and moving away with Frank. He didn't even have to fake being annoyed this time. "All right, Frank. What do you want?"

"I saw someone spike the punch."

"Seriously? I swear, Frank, you are taking the role you're playing too far. Lighten up."

Frank glared at him. "We're here tracing a drug ring and you think that someone spiking the punch isn't a cause for concern? Think about it. Even if that is just alcohol in there—and I have my doubts—the effect it could have if anyone is on that drug—"

"Damn," Joe swore, and Frank nodded in agreement. This was bad, and they both knew it. Most of the fatalities caused by this drug happened after the user had mixed it with high quantities of alcohol.

"I think we can prevent most of the damage if we get that punch bowl knocked over. Something that's easy enough for us."

"You want me to be an out of control klutz or you want to fight?"

Frank considered for a moment. "I think we should do the fight. That explains why I wanted to talk to you—I was trying to get you to leave—and it'll give me a chance to change and move around the party more freely. I'm out of place here."

Joe nodded. "You are too much of a dork for this one, though your girlfriend's one, too."

"Girlfriend?" Frank repeated and then stopped, his expression darkening. "Nancy is _not_ my girlfriend. Don't even start down that road. You are such a little brat."

"And you're an uptight control freak loser who can't stand to have a little fun," Joe snapped, letting the small real part of the fight help them over into the fake one they were putting on for show. "Get this through your head—I don't take orders from you. Even if you could make me, I'm not going home with you. You go back to your computer and cry because you're a pathetic loser. I'm going to have some fun."

"We're leaving," Frank insisted, making the mistake of reaching for Joe's arm. Joe brushed it off, shoving him back—right into the punchbowl.

Pink punch splattered everyone standing near by, drenching Frank. Mission accomplished, Joe thought, feeling a bit guilty as Frank picked himself up from the floor. He glared at Joe before stalking angrily away.

* * *

"Frank?"

He stopped, looking back from the car's trunk. He had brought a change of clothes—they almost always had a go bag when they were working, but he'd figured he'd need something a little less computer club and a little more private detective to finish out the night if they got a lead.

He just wasn't expecting anyone to notice or care that he'd been covered in pink punch. He should have, for more than one reason. "Nancy."

Nancy blushed, looking to the side and making him realize he hadn't finished changing his shirt. "I just came—you know how when it's your party you're responsible for all the guests and even if it's out of control you can't really not be responsible for it and—"

"I saw someone spike the punch and let Joe hit me so we could keep anyone from drinking it," Frank told her, pulling the new shirt over his head. "It's fine."

"Oh," she said, smiling a little. "Well, I'm—I'm glad nothing happened."

He smiled back, reaching for a comb instead of the pants that he would have changed into next. He would have to wash it, but he could use a bit of gel to keep it in place. "I'm sorry we wrecked your party."

She shook her head. "You didn't. Really. It was... kind of there already. It's not exactly what I expected from a party."

That was partially his fault. His and Joe's and their case. He put back the comb and grabbed his pants, though he had to wait to change them. "I'm sorry it's out of hand. We needed it to be, but that shouldn't have ruined your night."

She shrugged. "It could have been worse. I was starting to think that no one would come."

To be honest, so had he, but he didn't want to say so. He slipped his feet out of his shoes, switching out the pennyloafers for his black tennis shoes.

"Frank?"

He turned back to look at her. "Hmm?"

"If no one had come to my party, would you still have stayed?" Nancy asked, running her hands over her arms in the cold. "I don't have a lot of real friends in LA, and Bess and George couldn't come and my dad is working—"

"Joe and I would have been honored."

"I would have saved you a dance," she said with a shy smile. Then she looked back at the house. "I should probably get back in there."

He nodded. "Yeah. And I've got... um... a case."


	6. Peanut Butter Death Kiss

**Author's Note:** The peanut butter scene. Kind of. And, obviously, I know next to nothing about medicine.

Also, for some reason the site isn't letting me see my latest reviews, so if I haven't responded to yours, that's why. I do try to thank everyone and acknowledge criticism if I'm wrong.

* * *

"She's actually kind of impressive," Joe said, nudging Frank, who gave him a slight look. Joe wasn't sure how smart any of his "friends" were, because no one of them seemed to recognize Frank without the glasses and nerd clothes, assuming that he was one of them. A few girls he knew had ragged on his brother before had even called Frank hot. Joe would have to tease him about that.

Though with Nancy busy saving the girl from a peanut butter death kiss, it looked like their case was about to get busted—and not in the good way. The party would be broken up, and they'd still have nothing to show for any of this.

"You could do that, right? You had the advanced course."

"So did you," Frank muttered. He looked around, and Joe figured he was trying to find a way to slip away from the party unnoticed. Joe figured he could cause a distraction—another one, as if Trish almost choking wasn't enough of one—since the last thing they needed was to ruin Frank's cover when the party hadn't worked out.

He was about to start something with the guy who'd given the peanut kiss of death when Gabe went down next to him. Joe frowned. He knew Gabe had brought his own party to the party—he'd said as much when he pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel's and started drinking it—but there hadn't been that much in it, and unfortunately, Gabe knew how to handle his liquor.

Except now.

Frank moved over to Gabe, taking his pulse as the kid started to shudder. _Oh, hell,_ Joe thought as he recognized that. _This is the drug. The drug and alcohol. Gabe, you idiot._

"Damn. He's not that drunk, is he?"

"What else did he take?" Frank demanded, and when none of Gabe's friends answered him, he repeated the question with the kind of menace you never wanted to hear from the level-headed Hardy brother. _"What else did he take?_ If you don't tell me, he will die before the ambulance gets her for her."

"He didn't take any—" Ben stopped when Frank lifted Gabe's hand to show off the discolored skin the drug produced. "Skittles. He took skittles."

"Skittles?"

"It makes your skin the color of the rainbow," Ben said, shrugging. Frank looked like he wanted to hit one of them, and that was usually Joe's role.

"Where did he get it?"

"Hey, man, I told you what he took—"

"That's not enough. The hospital's going to need a sample of this stuff to reverse the effects. If you don't have that for them, say goodbye to Gabe now," Frank told him, still harsh. This was the Frank no one messed with, not even his kid brother.

"I don't have it," Ben said, tugging on Pete's arm, but the taller boy shook his head as well. The whole group started fidgeting and shoving the others. Joe rolled his eyes, unable to believe this. They were all stupid, high, and none of them had any left of the drug.

Great.

"Who's your dealer?"

"Churchill. Has a place north of Rodeo."

Joe wanted to smack someone. Or himself. _Well, that was easy. All it takes is one overdose to get the answer we need._

"We're going to need to make him vomit."

"What?" Joe and the rest of the guys demanded at the same time.

Frank sighed. "Purging his stomach is the first step to getting this out of his body and the only one we can do with the equipment we have here. The drug is already in his bloodstream, but if there's still alcohol in his stomach, we can stop that from making it worse."

 _Never mind. Easy just went out the window._ Joe looked at his brother. "Are you sure about this? Can't you just trach him like Nancy did that girl with the peanut butter death kiss?"

Frank's expression faltered for a moment at Joe's word choice, but all he said was, "No."


	7. Not Quite Wrapped Up

**Author's Note:** I think maybe I should have skipped ahead to Nancy finding a present from the boys thanking her for her help. It would have been better than this, and yet this... was still the best I could do for their case. It is certainly not my best, and I may rework it later. For now, though, I'd like to wrap things up and do the two pieces I want to do to end this little series.

* * *

 **Not Quite Wrapped Up**

"I did my best to purge the alcohol from his system as best I could, but I didn't have the right kind of equipment, and my first aid course back home didn't exactly cover this," Frank explained, passing Gabe over to the paramedics. They'd been a little more concerned with Trish—the craziness of an emergency tracheotomy was a little hard to ignore—until he'd explained that Gabe had mixed Jack Daniels and Skittles—and not the candy kind. They recognized that for what it was and took over, much to Frank's relief.

"I think you did fine," Joe told him, and Frank tried to force a smile. He knew Joe might gloat a bit more if the situation was reversed, but Frank had never liked being responsible for other people's lives. He hated feeling helpless. "Ooh, that looks like it might be Nancy's dad."

"Our cover and hers will be blown if he sees me," Frank said, stepping back from the ambulance and looking around. He'd suggested that the rest of Gabe's friends go to the emergency room as well, but he didn't know if they'd listened to him.

Joe met him over in the shadows. "I think it's time we had a little talk with a guy named Churchill, don't you?"

Frank eyed the crowd, nodding. As interesting as their time in LA had been, it was time to end it. Past time, really.

* * *

"We're looking for a man named Churchill."

"Think you're about fifty years too late for that."

"If we were seeking Winston, yes, but not every Churchill is the prime minister of Britain, and not everyone has a father accused of being a part of the Ripper conspiracy, either," Frank said, and Joe looked over at him. His brother really was a dork. Who knew all that stuff? More importantly, who cared?

Then again, he had a feeling that it might work on Nancy, of all people.

"You know your history, kid," the guy told Frank, who shrugged. Joe hoped that bit of trivia was somewhat useful, but he didn't know—the guy hadn't seemed all that impressed with what Frank had said. "Shouldn't waste a mind like yours on what Churchill sells."

"My mind is my own," Frank said, and he was right because he could be pretty darn stubborn sometimes. Joe just smiled. "Look, we need to talk to him. He sold a friend of ours something, and the guy's in the emergency room now. We need some of it so they can help him."

The guy jerked his thumb to the back of the building, and Frank thanked him as he moved forward. Joe followed after him, ready to get this case finished. All they needed was a few things from Churchill, and they'd have this Skittles trade shut down for good.

Frank stopped abruptly, and Joe walked into his back. "Ow. What the hell?"

"Well, well. I knew you two boys were trouble the minute you showed up at that school," a voice said, and Joe recognized it as his chemistry teacher with a sick feeling in his stomach.

This was _not_ good.

"You're Churchill?"

"And you're Joe and Frank Hardy."

Okay, Joe took it back. This was really, really _bad._


	8. All Banged Up

**Author's Note:** So after I wrote the last part and was really dissatisfied with it, I had a hard time coming back to this series, letting my limited time push All the Broken Pieces and Far from Home into the priority slots, leaving this one to languish a bit. This morning I figured out how to put this part together, skipping over the bits I really couldn't write, and made it around so I think I have just about everything ready to wrap this series up. I'm just trying to decide now if I want to split the next two things I want to include or let them be together.

* * *

"You're a mess."

Joe snorted, hand on his nose as he flipped his brother off. It was Frank's fault his profile was ruined. He didn't think his nose was going to go back straight, even if it was crooked before.

"You're the one who landed on me."

"Maybe you should have been a little faster," Frank said, rubbing at his wrist. Joe supposed of the two of them, he was the lucky one. When the fire escape broke, Frank had fallen further and landed on his arm, breaking it, and he almost looked worse than Joe did, except Joe's injury was right smack in the middle of his face. "Or maybe if you'd kept your mouth shut..."

Joe shrugged. "Annoying the bad guys is what I do."

"Yeah, well, Dad isn't thrilled about coming here to get us from the hospital," Frank muttered, fidgeting in his chair.

Joe rolled his eyes. "We saved the day, saved a drugged up idiot, and solved the case. We did good."

"Yeah." Frank still wasn't happy. Joe figured he was still upset about being caught and held while the drug dealer debated what to do with them. They'd escaped and gotten the arrest, so Joe was fine with it.

Other than his nose, that was.

"Frank, it'll be okay."

Frank nodded, distracted. Joe sighed, expecting another lecture, but then he got spared it when Frank rose. "Hey, that's Nancy."

* * *

Nancy looked up at the sound of her name, expecting her father. She'd tried to prepare what she was going to say to him, but she still didn't know and she felt guilty. This wasn't good. Then she saw Frank and smiled. A few more minutes without her dad was okay, and she did want to ask Frank about his case. She hadn't seen him since the party.

"You're hurt," she exclaimed, looking at his wrist. "What happened?"

"I could ask you the same," he said, pointing to her head. She grimaced. That looked worse than it was, and she didn't want to explain it to her father. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I had a little accident getting away from some kidnappers. You?"

"Same here, actually," Frank admitted. "Joe and I found our drug dealer, and he took us hostage while he decided if he was going to kill us or not. We escaped, but the fire escape wasn't up to code and I tried not to let Joe break my fall, so..."

"Is he okay?"

"He mouthed off and got hit in the nose. Kind of a habit with him."

She laughed, then winced. "I'm sorry. That isn't really funny."

Frank shrugged. "I think humor in our line of work is a little left of normal. Same with clothes and hobbies."

She smiled back at him. "Yeah."

Frank shifted his feet, looking a little uncomfortable. "Oh, so I did some thinking about your case. You think you found Dehlia's daughter, right? So if you did, and there was a will providing for her... Dehlia's killer is likely someone who stood to lose if her money went to her daughter. I know... Obvious conclusion, but if—"

"If I track down who benefited from Dehlia's death, then I might have her killer. It could be Z or it could be..." Nancy almost smacked herself. "Oh, I didn't tell you! I _did_ find the will. That is how I ended up kidnapped."

"Really? Where?"

Nancy grinned as she started to explain. Sharing mysteries with Frank Hardy was fun.


	9. A Thoughtful Thank You

**Author's Note:** So this is the second to the last piece in this little series. Working with the movie's plot made it so I could keep them short and fun, mostly, but it also meant that I didn't go into great detail or that certain elements I added were fully explored.

I wanted to have this one apart from the last part. It was one my original thoughts for the storyline.

This is what I think the glass looks kind of like, just with a different handle: esnarf dot com slash 3058 dot jpg

* * *

 **A Thoughtful Thank You**

 _Hey, Nancy,_

 _Joe says you should think it's creepy we found your home address to mail this to, but I argue that you'd assume we had better be good enough detectives to find it and it's not creepy at all._

 _Not for people like us, at least._

 _I wanted to apologize for not being able to see you again after the hospital. The Dehlia Draycott story made the news, so we know you solved the case. Congratulations. Joe thinks we could have done it faster, but he's still mad you managed to get the house he wanted to stay in and solve "our" mystery, so ignore him._

 _We both wanted to thank you for the use of your party, and so this is both a thank you and the present we should have brought to it._

 _Joe says it's corny, but I figure a girl like you would appreciate the idea. You like old fashioned things. Here's an old fashioned detective's tool. Joe did stop grumbling enough to do the engraving._

 _Thanks again,_

 _Frank and Joe Hardy_

Nancy smiled, taking the magnifying glass out of the box. Yes, she already had one, but this one was different. Her name was etched into the metal just above the pearl handle, and the glass itself was surrounded by decorative metal filagree. It was beautiful, and Frank was right—she loved it. This was the sort of gift—like Ned's compass—that came from someone who knew just what she needed and what mattered most to her—mysteries.

She couldn't wait to use it, though everyone would say it was too beautiful for casework. She smiled, placing it gently back in its box. She closed the box lid and latched it before she sat back to watch the broadcast with Jane.


	10. The End Is the Beginning

**Author's Note:** One of the other pieces I knew I was doing when I started this series was this ending. It felt perfect, and opens things up for more.

* * *

Nancy had just gotten something she wanted, had been waiting for a long time, and it was practically perfect. She should be happy, but Ned might be right about that post-partum thing. She just wasn't content, despite what Ned had just said and done.

"Nancy?" her father called from the doorway, and she looked back at the house.

"Yes?"

"Phone call," he said. "Long distance from Scotland. Something about the Loch Ness monster and some missing diamonds."

"Another case!" Nancy cried, delighted, and she knew that Ned was shaking his head at her, but she couldn't help her excitement. This was just what she needed. She ran in and took the phone from her father, trying not to bounce up and down as she did. She couldn't wait for another case. Scotland, even. She hadn't been there yet. This could be amazing.

"This is Nancy Drew," she said into the phone. "How can I help?"

"Not with the Loch Ness monster, I'm afraid. I don't know why Joe told your dad that, but now that I've got the phone—"

"Frank!" Nancy winced as she heard how loud her voice was. She looked over, glad to see her father had gone back into his office again, leaving her alone. "You want my help with a case?"

"Actually, we kind of _need_ it. See, there are only so many places a couple of guys can go, and without access to the women's side of things, I'm not sure we'll get anywhere," Frank admitted, sounding a bit flustered. "So if you're free and up for some undercover work—"

"You bet I am! Just tell me where."


End file.
